I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing
by KayBeth13
Summary: Hermione dies giving birth to her first child, but how will her passing affect the baby's father when he finds out?
1. She can't be!

_This story is completely dedicated to my best friend and surrogate sister Paula Watson, who was killed on 29th January 2007, aged just 18. I have decided to write this story as I think it's time I let myself go back to that time and write how I felt when I found out. _

_There are a few differences to what happened and what I wrote. Paula died because somebody spiked her drink and she had a reaction with the drug that killed her, whereas in this story, it is a different thing that causes the death. However, how the character finds out about the death and all the feelings and emotions I write for this story are exactly how I myself felt and found out, so please understand that even though this is a fanfic, it is also a true story of how I coped with the death of my best friend._

_Thank you and I hope you enjoy this story._

_..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

It was just a normal day for me. I worked as the head of the potions department at the Ministry of magic, and today was just the normal day. Inspect a few bottles of portions that the ministry wanted identifying, before writing a full report on each one explaining the properties and ingredients of each one was along with the effects of them. I was just reaching out to test my second vial of the day, when it heard it. Two female co-workers were sitting opposite me, before another woman burst into the room and hurried over to them.

"did you hear the news? You know that weird muggle Hermione Granger? Apparently she died last night"

I put my pen down, looked up in total shock at the girl. Did I just hear that correctly? I refused to believe it if I had heard correctly. The muggle was NOT dead, she couldn't be. Not her. She was too full of life to even think about the concept of her being dead. But, I found myself asking the girl where she found this information from.

"Amanda Peters from Finance told me. But why would you want to know? It's not like you'd care or anything."

I ignored her and shrugged my shoulders, but found I was unable to concentrate any longer, so went and I found this Amanda, and demanded that she tell me how she knew. I probably sounded desperate. I felt as if I was about to explode if I didn't find out the truth soon, and I know I scared her as I was almost aggressive as I almost begged to know the truth. I hoped it was just a nasty rumour.

Amanda explained that she had been told by Ron Weasley that Hermione had passed away in the early hours of the morning. Apparently the strain of giving birth had been too great for her small frame and halfway through pushing the child out, she had feinted, and didn't wake up again. My heart flew into my mouth, and I felt the sick rushing to my throat and barely managed to force it back down again. I thanked her for telling me, and stumbled down the halls until I eventually found my way to the misuse of magic department, and ultimately, to a door marked _Ronald Weasley, Head of department_.

I knocked on the door, trying to control my shaking hand, and soon the familiar red headed man poked his head out. As soon as he say it was me his eyes narrowed into a fierce glare.

"What do _you _want?" he spat.

"is it true?"

"what? That Hermione died giving birth to _your_ daughter? Oh yes, it's very true, but you probably just wanted to confirm it so you could gloat, didn't you?"

I barely had time to move, before the door was slammed in my face. Even though it had been confirmed by one of her best friends, I still just didn't believe it. I couldn't believe it. My brain went into shock, and I found myself moving away from the office, and towards the exit of the ministry. I had no clue where I was going to go, only that I had to get out of there. I had to do something, or else I would completely break before I was ready to truly accept what deep in my heart, I knew to be truth.


	2. My Daughter

_I could stay awake,_

_Just to hear you breathing_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

_While you're far away and dreaming._

_I could spend my life,_

_In this sweet surrender_

_I could stay lost in this moment_

_Forever._

_Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_

I decided to give myself the rest of the day off work, and visited st mungo's. it took a while, but I eventually found my way to the maternity unit, and the shaking returned, along with the feeling of sickness. Though I was moving, my legs felt like lead, like they were being weighted down and preventing me from moving. A nurse came over to me and asked me if I needed help. I calmed myself and prayed that my voice would not give out as I answered.

"I would like to see Hermione granger's daughter please."

"I'm sorry but only friends and family are allowed."

"I am the child's father."

Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth formed a small 'o', and within seconds I was being hurried down a long corridor until we eventually entered a room with a set of four incubaters in it. She moved over to one of them and a pink bundle was lifted out.

My daughter was placed in my arms and the first thing that greeted me was a pair of big brown eyes, so like her mother's.

"what is her name?" I asked.

"I think miss Granger named her Emily Rose"

I kissed Emily's forehead, before handing her back to the nurse, not being able to hold her anymore as the trembling came back stronger than ever and I found myself having to wlak away again to control my emotions, ignoring the nurse as she tried to calm the now screaming baby and call me back at the same time. I just didn't care.

All of a sudden I probably looked as if a wave of calm had washed over me, but to the more trained eye, I wash shaking slightly with my jaw and fists clenched as I fought to gain control over my feelings, when in reality all I wanted to do was break, no, _destroy_ something. Anything to take this feeling away. I felt lost as if everyone was moving around me, but I was just standing there, with no purpose, no sense, nothing.

That night, I was barely able to sleep, thoughts of Hermione plaguing my mind, forcing me to lie awake, fighting back the hurt threatening to take over me.I never let you know how often I would lie there watching you sleeping. I loved wtatching you. You looked so young, so fragile when you were lying there, and every now and again, your mouth would twitch upwards ever so slightly. I used to wish that I could spend my whole life watching you sleep, but you would always wake up as I thought that, and give me that sleepy smile, the one I cwould always cherish in my heart.

When I finally woke up after my hellish night, I managed to stumble to have a shower, my mind still blank, barely able to focus on anything, even to the poitn that I very nearly washed my hair with shaving cream instead of shampoo. I slammed the cream down and picked up the shampoo, furiously scrubbing my hair. By the time I finished my shower, I decided that yesterday was just a dream and that I had simply imagined it all. I decided to give myself a holiday as it was obvious I wasn't getting enough sleep, and it was causing me to start hallucinating. I wrote a letter apologising for the short notice, and sent my owl to deliver it, before moving downstairs to start my first day of my holiday.


	3. Seeing her grave for the first time

_I don't wanna close my eyes,_

_I don't wanna fall asleep,_

'_Coz I'd miss you babe,_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing_

I didn't know when the funeral was. All I knew was that Hermione was dead, and that somewhere out there was my daughter, probably under the care of Harry Potter or Ron Weasley. It hurt so much to think that I would never get to see her smile again, nor gaze into her deep chocolate brown eyes that drove me wild.

I found myself not being able focus properly. I seemed to be permanently walking about in a daze, everything moving past me like a blur. It wasn't until I heard my co-workers mention the funeral that I realised that it had been and gone. I asked them when it was and they explained that it had been the Monday previously. It had been a whole week and a half.

I don't know what forced me to do it, but I found myself walking through the cemetery in her home town that day, knowing that somewhere here, she was buried. I saw a few muggles working at one of the raves and stopped to ask them if they knew where you were.

"I recognise the name, how old was she?" the youngest of the three asked.

"18. She died giving birth."

"Ah yes, I remember so young."

I followed behind him as he showed me to the grave. After each step, my heart grew heavier and heavier, as the dread grasped my lungs too, gradually growing tighter and tighter until I felt as though I couldn't breath. When the man stopped, my breath hitched and I found I was unable to raise my eyes off the floor, silently hoping and praying that this had all just been a great big rumour.

"Hermione Jane granger?"

I exploded, couldn't hold the pain in any longer as the emotion slammed into me like a tonne of bricks. I let out a strangled yell as I burst out crying, completely shaking uncontrollably. I just wanted to curl up and fade away at that moment. My stomach was writhing in agony, my heart felt like it had just been ripped out and destroyed in front of me. I curled an arm round my stomach trying to fight off the stabbing pain shooting through it, barely noticing the embrace that I had been pulled into. All I knew was that she was truly gone, never to be seen again, never to be heard from, I would never get to see her amazing smile and the way it would light up her whole face again. I couldn't bare it. My legs shook as they struggled to keep me upright, but they eventually lost the fight and I gradually sank to the floor in front of her grave marked only with a cross, the hot tears pouring down my face, my throat screaming out in agony with the force of the tears I was releasing. The whole time, my eyes continued to scan the name on the cross, memorising them, yet not really seeing them at the same time.

It was at that point I went numb. Once I stopped crying and stood up, I felt like I was a robot. My whole body felt dead, as though I was running on autopilot. The only thing still hurting was my heart. Every time I breathed, my heart skipped and squeezed even tighter, but no more tears came. I got home, and went straight to bed, not caring that it was only just 2pm and that I hadn't washed and showered first. I just stripped my shirt and trousers off and climbed into bed, eventually falling asleep.

I wasn't asleep for long. Memories flashed in my mind like lightening, only appearing for a split second before fading only to be replaced by yet another flash. I flew into a seated position, crying out, sweat pouring don my face. I brushed my hair back with a shaking hand and gazed out the window as I caught my breath. I couldn't go on like this much longer. I don't think I could handle any more pain. I didn't want to close my eyes and dream in fear that I would be wracked with the pain of losing her all over again.


End file.
